Searching for Life's Easy Button

My daughter wants to learn how to play guitar. We are thrilled about this so two years ago we bought her a cute half-size instrument, found a wonderful young teacher and added guitar lessons and practice to our schedule.

That was the easy part. Everything since then -- not so easy. She quickly discovered that, while the gear and the lessons can be purchased, the skills to play a guitar cannot. Whenever the struggle comes to a head, she insists tearfully, “No mom. I don’t want to quit. I just don’t want to practice.”

Oh, how I can relate. I have a long list of aspirations – playing the guitar, speaking Spanish, writing a book, learning to knit. But somehow I lack the time, focus and probably the passion to make them a reality.

One of the inconvenient truths about life is that we can buy a lot of things to make our time on Earth easier – self-cleaning ovens, drive-through food, automatic sprinklers, remote car starters, and any number of “I” items (I-phones, pods, pads, tunes, books).

But most of the things in life worth having can’t be bought or gained through a short cut. Apple doesn’t offer an I-PerfectMarriage, I-MedicalDegree, I-ScratchGolfer.

Nowhere is the lack of convenient shortcuts more evident than in parenting.

Our youngest is struggling a bit to adjust to pre-school. On the first day, a spiffy new pair of shoes was enough to inspire him through the door. But the novelty of the new shoes has long since worn off. Lately when I drop him off he wraps his arms and legs around me like a spider monkey and insists he’s staying with me.

Removing a nimble five-year-old who is clinging to your back with all four limbs is impossible to do gracefully while wearing high heels and carrying a giant pink purse. Especially when, in my heart, I want to stay with him, introduce him to friends and keep him comfortable.

Would my presence ease his transition or rob him of an important chance to learn how to make friends and adjust to new situations on his own? Oh for an I-ParentingDecisionMaker to tell me.

For parents, every day is a replay of “to do or not to do.” Should we confront the mean friend on our child’s behalf, protect them from a bad teacher, buy them what they want, restrict their access to TV or video games, say no to junk food and soda, lobby a coach for more playing time?

When should we intervene and when should we leave them to fight their own battles and learn their own lessons? Where’s the “easy button” to help us find this delicate balance?

Our instinct is to make things easy and comfortable for our kids, to fix their mistakes and protect them from bad consequences. But good things rarely come easy or without effort. Convenience doesn’t build character.

The best and most loving approach might very well be to let them struggle through some hard times, learn to deal with pain and disappointment and hopefully gain the confidence, compassion and strength of realizing they can.

For kids and adults alike, money can’t buy a shortcut for that

Fall is Here

I did something last week that I haven’t done for months -- wore long pants running. I hated to take this step and debated trying to ignore the thermometer, but the previous day found me shivering in white capris and sandals that I naively wore in protest to the changing temps.

Let’s face it. Fall is here.

A few weeks ago I was celebrating the best summer ever. But the air today is altogether different. The undertones are undeniably cool and the dominoes of a new season are beginning to tumble. New routines, responsibilities and hobbies one-by-one shut the door on summer and transition us gently (please oh please gently, and slowly) into winter.

It begins with clothes. Fall means jeans and sweatshirts, and for women especially the return of socks. Wool, corduroy or “Russels” are clearly premature at this point, but cotton is much too breezy. Denim and fleece are just right.

Food also takes a major turn. Fall means soup and chili – the easiest comfort foods. I miss having these no-fail options to turn to in the summer when the clock strikes six and we realize the dinner angels forgot to bless our home with food or inspiration for it.

Fall means the return of school routines. Amen and hallelujah. Parents everywhere are celebrating this.

Don’t get me wrong. I treasure the freedom of summer, but enough is enough. Our kids were beginning to sound way too much like Sponge Bob and Patrick. They stayed up late, played all day and ate so many freeze pops I began to worry their teeth might take on the brilliant rainbow hues of these cheap treats.

So long freedom, hello 8:15 bedtimes and two glorious hours of mostly quiet adult time. One of these days I might actually watch a television show or balance the checkbook again.

Fall also means the end of potted plants and their incessant need for water. I’m sick of ours, and secretly hope for a freeze so I can quit watching them slowly die from neglect. Don’t tell, but I’m cheating on them already anyway. I noticed some very attractive pumpkins at the farmer’s market the other day. The dainty pink petunias that brought me joy all summer will soon be withering in the garbage can, replaced by rough and ruddy hay bales and gourds.

Finally, fall means new hobbies. My poor hips and bunions are begging me to return to the lap pool, something I just can’t do until the snow flies and temperatures plummet. Golf clubs will soon be replaced with shotguns. And Sunday afternoons will find families and friends gathered together for the great (and often futile) tradition on these Northern plains: cheering for the Vikings or Packers.

Welcome fall! Enter slowly, make yourself at home, and please stick around for a while. I have lots of jeans to wear.